


Detention

by strange_glow



Series: Virus Prequals [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strange_glow/pseuds/strange_glow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Rosencruz, everything is a lesson and a test.  Two 12 year old boys meet in a not so Garden of Eden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> AU, Part 1 of a series of short prequels to Virus.  
> Based on a previous challenge "what if Kudoh Yohji was actually a missing agent of Esset?"  
> So in these stories, Kudoh Yohji goes by his AU name, Sarazawa Yuuji.

 

 

AU, Part 1 of a series of prequels to Virus.  

At Rosencruz, everything is a lesson and a test.  Two boys meet in a not so Garden of Eden.

 

 

Brad dug the shovel down into a pile of dirt to hold it and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm.  He looked at his hands.  The blisters were starting to really hurt.  He knew they’d hurt worse when they broke.  The sun was only quarter way through the morning arc, and he could feel the skin cooking on his back.  Bad enough they’d taken away his shoes as well. He realized now it was to make it even harder to work the shovel.  He supposed he was lucky they’d left him in his gym shorts.

 

He sighed and took up the shovel again. If the Herr wanted the garden double dug in the English style, then he would do it.  “Lesson learned,” he muttered to himself angrily, and continued on the trench he was digging.  “Look before you smart off, _stupid._ ”

 

A foot deep, dirt piled to one side, then a foot deeper, dirt piled to the other side; first layer of dirt back in the bottom, second layer on the top, until the whole thing was done.  All nearly one hundred square feet of it.  The marked out garden-to-be was damned hard packed dirt, and full of rocks left by the glaciers that had once covered this region.  No matter how fast he worked, he could only see it being finished by late the next day with only one meal and six hours sleep.  By which time his hands would be bloody, his feet aching, and the pain too much for thinking, let alone seeing.  Sweat dripped down his nose and made his new glasses even more annoying.  They were already smeary and he had nothing to clean them with but his cotton underwear.  He briefly considered having a good snivel, then discarded it as a waste of time. 

 

He hated manual labor; hence his predicament.  The entire class was supposed to be working on this project for the Herr, but his big mouth had got him into trouble for the last damned time.  Stupid shovel hurting his hands until he could feel every little grain in the wood.  Stupid dirt, stupid sun, stupid rocks, stupid—everything!  He chopped a worm in half and watched the parts wiggle in futile shock just for the satisfaction of it.  Someday they’d pay for this!  He’d cut them in half just like this worm!

 

“Oi!” a voice called cheerfully. “It’s Crawford, isn’t it?”

 

Startled from his plans of world domination, he looked up, then around. 

 

The sun was right in his eyes until he shaded them with a dirty, aching hand; then he saw a boy half on the low rock wall.   He, too, was stripped down to his gym shorts and nothing more.  What was this about?  He was going to check, but suddenly, he didn’t want to.  He hadn’t seen this variation in the time line to start with.  He didn’t _always_ see things, but this was odd.  And _odd_ meant another talent. 

 

“What do _you_ want?” he dug the shovel in again, working it under his bare foot to lift up another clump.  He’d managed to stop stomping on the thinly rolled edge of the blade and started more of a wiggling it into the dirt so it wouldn’t end up wrecking his feet.  This method also levered the rocks out of the way better, too. He was starting to see the value of actually thinking things out instead of just looking ahead for the answers. 

 

“For one thing, to get out of this mess,” the boy said, jumping down into the garden.  “You’d think if they really wanted this garden in time for Summer, they’d have found a better way to punish us and let the class do the work more quickly.” He looked around.  “Where are the other tools?”

 

“There aren’t any,” Brad said, focused on his work.  “So despite your being sentenced to hard labor as well, this won’t get done until tomorrow evening.”

 

A hand caught the shovel in front of him.  “Then take a break,” the boy said. 

 

Brad looked up at him. 

 

A pair of green eyes looked at him from under a close cropped blond scalp, but they were Asian shaped. Unlike Brad’s pale as death hue, the boy was naturally tawny under the sun.  Rather than spindly skin and bones, he was athletic in build; what muscles he had were well rounded.  

 

“If we spell each other, we’ll work faster, right?” the boy said and firmly pulled the shovel from him.  “You’ve been at this all morning; I’m fresh.  I’ll work for a while.” 

 

Brad stepped up out of the trench and cautiously rubbed his aching hands.  He hoped the dirt wouldn’t infect the cuts when they happened.  He’d tried to look further but the stabbing pains in his optical nerves had put an end to his vision.  “What did you do?”

 

The boy shrugged.  “The usual.  Mouthing off to authority.” Apparently he wasn’t going to go into any details.  He dug in and pushed the shovel down further with the balls of his toes.  His muscles actually rippled. 

 

Brad decided he hated him.  It was bad enough being the human equivalent of a four eyed ferret, but did he have to be stuck with _this_ guy who might as well have posed for stupid statues like the ones around the fancy fountain in the main building?  “What’s your name?”

 

“Yuuji,” the boy said, working away methodically. 

 

“First year here?” he hadn’t seen him around. 

 

“Just transferred in a month ago.  How long have you been in?”

 

“Start of the year,” he said.  “Look, what if I start pushing the layers in behind you for now, that will move things a little faster.” 

 

“Go for it, but not too close, I don’t want my feet buried alive,” the boy said.  “This reminds me of that line in Alice Through The Looking Glass.  You’d think they’d want the plants to be all awake and miserable like the rest of us.”

 

“Alice is a _girl’s_ book,” Brad sneered, using his foot as a sort of bull dozer to push the dirt into the trench. 

 

“I suppose you’d rather read Harry Potter,” the boy looked up with a smile. 

 

Brad frowned.  “Fiction is a waste of time for the weak minded.”

 

“Are you saying they’re too weak minded to ‘get it’, or that it’s only entertaining for those who _are_ weak minded?”

 

Brad felt like punching him.  “You’re making fun of me,” he stated. 

 

“No, I’m not, I’m asking what the hell you mean.  Sounds like something one of the old farts here would say.  Who’s been filling your little head with junk?” 

 

“ _Little!_ ” Brad was reaching his breaking point. 

 

“Well how old are you anyway?” Yuuji looked at him.

 

“I’m _twelve!_   And hardly little.”

 

“Well you are for your age, then, because I’m twelve, too.” 

 

“You’re taking steroids, or growth hormones, aren’t you?” Brad sneered.

 

“No, I’m not!” Yuuji protested.  “I’m just athletic, that’s all.  If I were on steroids, I’d be like—well like Anders; you’ve seen him, the beast.  He’ll make a wonderful human battering ram,”  he looked around warily, { _he’d learned fast, Brad thought}_ then focused back on his digging.  “So what _do_ you read?”

 

“Biographies and histories,” Brad pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose. 

 

“I bet you’re _all_ about Machiavelli, Nietzsche, and Sun Tzu,” Yuuji said.  “Well stop and think, Shorty.  Alice was written by a maths professor who really knew his stuff.  It’s got hidden depths.”

 

“Wait, wasn’t he the pervert who _liked little girls_?” Brad was squicked badly just thinking about it.  “And _don’t_ call me ‘shorty’.”

 

“Well, they _say_ that, but then again, he only photographed them as art, and with other adults around, so it’s still up in the air,” Yuuji allowed.  “And the real Alice would have said something, wouldn’t she?  They did ask her, when she was old.”

 

“Would she?   Girls are sort of missing a few bits on the inside as well as out, aren’t they?”  Brad said a bit snippily. 

 

“And your vast worldly experience has lead you to this conclusion?” 

 

“You talk like a ponce,” Brad stated.  He wondered if they’d mind his taking that shovel to this guy’s head and working him into a deeper layer. 

 

“I suppose I get it from reading too much fiction,” Yuuji taunted.  “What are you, anyway?” 

 

“What am I?  What the hell are you!  You’ve got funny eyes.”

 

“Japanese ethnic, Swiss born,” Yuuji stated.  “And I dare you to call me a freak, four eyes.  So where are you from?”

 

“How can _you_ be Japanese?”

 

“Gee, I don’t know, ask my parents.” 

 

Brad frowned.  “I’m—I was—American.”

 

“Oh,” Yuuji said significantly and went on with his shoveling.

 

“What do you mean ‘oh’,” Brad demanded. 

 

 “I’m third generation Hibakusha,” Yuuji said.  “The bombs.  Messed up my family’s genetics.  What’s your excuse?”

 

“Don’t know,” he went back to kicking dirt into the trench. 

 

“Ah,” Yuuji said.  “Well, you’re Rosencruz now, so I won’t hold it against you.”

 

“Don’t care what you think.”

 

“I bet you would if I wrote my biography,” Yuuji said in that teasing way again. 

 

Brad reconsidered the whole burying him with a shovel dent in his skull scenario again.  “Unless you’re planning on doing something spectacular like start World War 3, I wouldn’t care.”

 

“Might,” Yuuji said.  “Is that what it would take?”

 

Brad tipped his head in puzzlement.  “Take to what?”

 

“Get you to be interested in me as a fellow human being.”

 

Brad snorted and kicked more dirt back into the trench.  “Christ, you’re _weird_.”

 

“You’re anti-social, a clean freak, you have a superiority complex that covers feeling inferior (Napoleonic much?), no imagination, no sense of humor, and don’t like girls.  What do you know about me so far?”

 

 _“What?”_ Brad stated. 

 

Yuuji stuck the shovel in the dirt and used it to lean his arm on while he had a good look at Brad.  “Seriously, do you even _know_ how to make friends?”

 

“Don’t need friends.  Asshole.”  Brad said sullenly.

 

“Really?  In this place,” Yuuji looked around.  “You’ve got a lot to learn.”

 

Brad used his big toe to tip a rock back into the trench.  “You’re still an asshole,” he muttered.

 

“Let’s start again,” the taller boy said.  He held out his now just as dirty hand.  “Sarazawa Yuuji, nice to meet you.”

 

Brad looked at the hand, then considered what he’d been repeatedly told.  THINK before you act.  ACT, don’t react.  His mouth twitched in annoyance.  He reluctantly held out his own to be lightly grasped and shook.  “Brad Crawford.”

 

“There you see,” Yuuji said, still holding his hand.  “You survived.”

 

“Let go of my hand, you weirdo,” Brad said, tugging. 

 

Instead, Yuuji turned it over and looked at the blisters.  “Ouch.  Those are going to hurt,” he finally let go.  “And you’re a weed.  Don’t even work out, do you?”

 

“What do you want to be friends for if you’re going to insult someone!”

 

“I’ve heard the rumors.  You’re a pre-cog,” Yuuji pulled out the shovel and started working again.  “First one they’ve had their hands on in decades.”

 

“Where did you hear that?  You’re very nosy, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, I am,” the boy said honestly.  “Bet you can’t guess my talent.  Even with your ability.”

 

Brad glared at him, jaw set.  Shovel, head, trench, problem solved. 

 

Green eyes focused on him again for a moment, then went back to watching what he was doing. 

 

Brad huffed out a sigh.  He kicked another pile of dirt in.  He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing this game with him.  “Don’t care,” he stated. 

 

“S’alright,” Yuuji said. “It’s not much anyway.  I have to learn how to use it first.  I’m doing all this work, entertain me.  What have you read lately.”

 

Brad rubbed his hand, the one the boy had held, off on his shorts, then inspected his growing blisters.  “’Mein Kampf’ seemed appropriate for this semester.”

 

Yuuji laughed.  There was a pitch to his laugh that was somehow—pretty, Brad thought.  Yuuji laughed like he was really happy.    

 

Something weird was happening.  It was alien enough to him that he recognized that.  He felt—strangely lightened.  That was the only way he could describe it.  As if he could breath better. 

 

Yuuji looked up at him again and grinned.  “Go on, tell me about it.  After all, I’m doing all the work now.  And when it’s your turn, I’ll warp your innocent young mind with the plot from Alice Through the Looking Glass.”

 

Brad narrowed his eyes at the boy.  Violence was still an option.  After the garden was dug. 


End file.
